


Twenty Million Dollars

by Mekatt



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Butch Cassidy Sundance Kid, Friendship, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:31:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mekatt/pseuds/Mekatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been a tough day on the set of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  Robert Redford is concerned that his older co-star may be feeling his age...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Million Dollars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NovaMist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaMist/gifts).



> Thank you to my wonderful Beta, Giglet. Your help and assistance is great appreciated.
> 
> The following piece is purely a work of fiction.

Robert Redford sat alone at the hotel bar; drink in his hand, cigarette smouldering, untouched in the ashtray.

As he shifted in his stool, he grimaced at his aching butt and thighs. It had been an exhausting bitch of a day. The constant re-takes and endless hours of horse riding in unusually humid weather though the rugged Utah landscape, were enough to make even an experienced rider like Robert feel as though he were sitting on razor wire.

Paul's day hadn't really fared much better. As they were filming the posse chase sequence through heavy terrain, Paul lost his footing in some loose rocks; sliding twenty feet down the embankment. His hapless afternoon continued when his horse was spooked by an overzealous camera assistant. The startled creature reared up, dumping its rider in some nearby scrub.

As soon as director George Roy Hill announced that they would wrap for the day, Robert felt relief wash over him; the prospect of a hot shower, a clean change of clothes, and a nightcap in Paul's company filled him with relish.

But tonight – much to Robert's irritation – Paul blew him off in exchange for an early night. He couldn't really blame his friend; after all, Paul drove himself harder than any other actor he had met and he wasn't getting any younger.

Robert purchased a bottle of scotch – even though he wasn't really partial to it – bid goodnight to the bartender and went to muster up some company.

**

As he walked down the corridor, Robert could see the light under the door of Paul's room and hear the sounds of Bach's Brandenburg concerto. He tapped on the door. "Paul...it's me"

The music suddenly stopped and he could hear footsteps thud across the floor. A muffled voice called out from inside the room. "If you're the attractive blonde I met last night, I already told you, I don't do threesomes. Redford's room is just down the hall, he'd be up for it."

Robert pulled a face. "That ceased to be funny about two months ago. Get yourself some new material old man."

The handle turned and a tired and rumpled Paul Newman greeted him with a beatific smile. His open shirt hung limply over his shoulders. Congealing bloodied scratches from the afternoon ran in angry patterns across his face.

"Wow, you look like hell." Robert pushed past him into the room.

Paul ran a hand through his hair as he closed the door. "Thanks. Always nice to hear from my fans."

"Tough day huh?"

"I've had better." He threw a towel around his neck and chuckled. "But I have had worse." He whistled as he wandered into the bathroom and began to fill the sink with water. Robert left the scotch on the sideboard and leaned against the doorway to watch his friend's ministrations.

"You know, they were a couple of heavy falls you took today. Sure you're alright?"

Paul turned off the water and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. "Oh I'll have a few bruises tomorrow and I'll probably be picking thorns out of my butt for the next week. He plunged his face in the sink, groaning loudly with relief as the cool water soothed his skin. He looked up, droplets running down his face. "But don't worry Redford; I can still kick your ass at badminton."

Paul patted himself dry before giving himself the once-over in the mirror. "Got a smoke? I think mine ended up at the bottom of the canyon."

Robert reached into his jacket pocket and offered up a crushed packet of Marlboros.

"Thanks." Paul put a cigarette in his mouth, letting it dangle between his lips as he stripped off his shirt. He took off his belt, untucked his undershirt and sat up on the bed. He lit the cigarette, took a drag and nodded at the bottle in Robert's hand. "So is this an errand of mercy?"

Robert unscrewed the lid and filled two glasses. He gave one to Paul. "Well, I didn't really want you sitting up here alone, listening to Bach and slowly getting drunk on Budweiser. It was too depressing to think about." Robert took a quick nip of his drink, grimacing at the unfamiliarity of its burn.

"See, I knew that beneath moustache and that stern exterior you really do care."

"Well I was actually bored sitting at the bar on my own. Made me feel like an old wino."

He kicked off his boots and socks and sat on the end of the bed. As he began to get comfortable, he noticed Paul's copy of the Butch Cassidy script. He picked it up and absently flicked through it. Several notes had been written beside paragraphs of dialogue in Paul's illegible scrawl. He looked at his friend. "Dare I ask; what's your idea this time?"

Paul leaned forward and took the script back. He quickly shuffled through the pages until he found what he wanted. "You're gonna like this. I have this great idea for the scene where Butch and Sundance break in to Sheriff Bledisloe's office. I reckon it should be taken out of the chase sequence and placed before the New York sequence.

Robert let out a sigh. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Well Butch and Sundance head to South America right? So the way I figure it, the Sheriff Bledisloe scene should come right before the New York scene to justify Butch's plan runaway to Bolivia."

Robert took a drag on his cigarette. "Has anyone ever told you that you are a fastidious pain-in-the-ass?"

"What can I say? It's all part of my charm."

Robert snorted and went to stand by the window. He opened it, breathing in deeply as he felt the air circulate through the tiny room. He smiled. There wasn't anything quite as seductive as a quiet, star-filled Utah night.

Suddenly inspired and without preamble he grabbed the bottle of scotch and pulled his friend to his feet. "C'mon old man."

**

Robert led Paul across the hotel's courtyard. The temperature had dropped significantly since dinner, and the ground was cold under their bare skin. But the air was crisp and fresh and surprisingly invigorating.

"Redford, would you mind telling me where the hell we're going? My feet are freezing."

Robert found a reasonably quiet and secluded spot just past the swimming pool. He spread out his jacket over the twigs and dry leaves, made himself comfortable and gestured for Paul to sit beside him.

**

After about half an hour - and more than half a bottle of scotch to ward off the chill - the difficulties of the day seemed to ebb away. They recounted stories of college escapades and previous filming experiences. And of course Paul had pulled out his repertoire of stupid jokes that were as old as the Utah landscape itself. Robert, feeling relaxed and peaceful, found himself laughing – as he could never resist doing -at his friend's high spirits.

After a while they were content to settle side by side on the grass looking at the stars. Paul put his hands behind his head and turned to smile at Robert. "This is nice. I can't remember the last time I did something like this."

"Sure is a beautiful place. Be nice to buy some land here; perhaps build a little place." Robert agreed as he stared thoughtfully into the sky.

Paul, who could never sit still for very long, sat up and rested his arms on his knees. He took another swig from the bottle. "So what are your plans after we finish up here?"

To his surprise, Robert felt a slight pang run through him, shattering his inner peace. He hadn't really contemplated life after Butch Cassidy. He found he didn't really want to think it. At the moment he felt good; under a canvas of stars; nothing but the wilderness and a buddy.

A million miles from the shit of Hollywood.

When saw Paul waiting for an answer, he pulled himself together. "I'll be back in California shooting a film, then heading to Colorado to start on an independent film project. He glanced at the side of Paul's face, and then quickly looked away. "I'll be working with Syd Pollack again, which I'm looking forward to. What about you?"

Paul settled back down on one elbow. "I'll be taking a few weeks off til the end of December." He shifted his weight trying to get comfortable. "My older kids are coming to Connecticut for Christmas. After that, I'll be in New Orleans for a couple of months producing a film with Stu Rosenberg."

They both fell silent for a while, listening to the quiet sounds of the night, each man caught up in his own thoughts.

Again, it was Paul who broke the silence. "Say Redford."

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you and me should find something else to do together."

Robert was quiet for a minute before lifting his head. "What? Like another film?"

"Sure, why not? We work well together, you and me. I mean, I reckon Butch Cassidy is gonna be your first twenty million dollar film."

"You're seriously that confident?"

"Course I am." Paul slapped his friend on the thigh and toasted his friend. "Here's to Redford losing his twenty million dollar box office virginity." He took a mouthful and passed it back to Robert who followed suit.

The scotch hit the back of his throat too fast, making him choke and splutter, tears running down his face. Paul thumped him on the back and chuckled.

"Steady on there, Redford." Paul threw an easy arm around his shoulder. "You and me gotta whole world of possibilities ahead of us."  
As Robert mopped his face with the sleeve of the shirt, he could see Paul watching him in amusement; his smile so goddamn infectious, that Robert couldn't help but smile back.

Much had been said about – what did they call it – the chemistry between them. At first Robert just thought it was a ridiculous term made up by studio executives with dollar signs in their eyes. But as time went on, he began to suspect that perhaps there was some validation in the term.

Robert squeezed the hand lying across his shoulder. It was rough and a little cold, but felt comforting and reliable.

 

"You're getting old Newman. I can see grey hairs."

Paul rested his chin on his friend's shoulder. "Probably from having to work with you, Redford."

As he moved his head to quip back, Robert could feel his lips unintentionally brush against Paul's chin and before he could stop himself, he had drawn Paul into a kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Paul grinned at him. That goddamn ridiculous and beautiful grin. "So that's a definite yes to us working together again?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Robert leaned in, taking his friend by the shoulders and kissing him again. This time, Paul's lips were warm and welcoming, kissing him back with fervour; lips parting to allow Robert to taste the sweet warmth of his mouth.

As their embrace became more demanding, Robert pushed down on Paul's shoulders, causing him to fall backward on to the jacket, pulling Robert on top of him. Their breathing was harsh and ragged, with sensible thought about ears or eyes prying nearby.

"Christ Redford. I'm an old man."

"Yeah, but we can work around it."

He let go of one of Paul's shoulders; light fingers following the solid, carved torso through the thin cotton of his undershirt. As they strayed further below his waist, he could feel Paul twitch and try to push up into his rough caress. He began to feel blindly for his Paul's fly...

A hand reached out and grabbed his wrist to stop him going any further. Paul struggled up onto an elbow, gently pushing Robert away. His eyes were glassy and wild, breath coming quickly. He moved his lips to Robert's ear; his voice low as he spoke.

"Since this is possibly going to be your first twenty million dollar film, I suggest we continue this discussion somewhere slightly more private."

**

 

Robert woke about an hour from dawn breaking. From the even breaths beside him, he guessed that Paul was still sleeping. Shivering from the chill of the early morning, he got out of bed to shut the window. He cursed quietly as the frosty air hit his bare limbs.

Paul stirred and rolled over. "What are you doing awake? It's still dark."

"It's damn freezing in here."

When he got back into bed, Paul reached out pulled him into his arms, sliding a leg between his thighs. Robert just sighed and enjoyed the snug feeling of his friend's body.

Paul pressed his lips to the top of Robert's head. "You know Redford, you still haven't really answered my question."

Robert groaned in exasperation and spoke into Paul's chest. "What question?"

"About you and me working on another project together." Paul traced gentle fingers up and down his thigh.

Robert laughed. "You just keep thinking Paul. That's what you're good at."


End file.
